The Final Letter; The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

The Final Letter.

October 18, 1992.

Dear Friend,

I'm sorry I haven't writen you in a while. I've been busy "participating." That was over the summer, but now school's started I hardly get to see them anymore. I know it's not their fault, but I miss them so much. They write letters but they rarely get to visit. Patrick said that he found a boyfriend that is nice and doesn't have to hide from his parents; I'm happy for him. Sam told me not to worry; that she'd wait for me. But I can't help but worry; she's so pretty and is at a college surrounded by boys... I'm not helping myself, am I? My sister told her boyfriend that she was pregnant; she said he'd changed. It turns out that he was right. He didn't leave her. He's planning on marrying her after the baby's born.

As for school, it's hard not having them here. I miss Sam, Patrick, Mary Elizabeth, Alice, Bob, even Peter and Craig. Even Bill doesn't talk to me anymore. My therapist is trying to help me deal with my social skills, or lack of them. I want to make new friends, but I'm worried I'll forget my true ones, or that they'd think I'd replaced them. But I know that it isn't possible. I tried making a friend by talking to the new girl to make my therapist and my parents happy. The girl's name is Anne. She has dark hair that she wears in tight curls that stops at her shoulders. She has electric blue eyes that stand out against her tan skin. She is pretty, but not as pretty as Sam. No one can compare to Sam. Anne is okay, but she doesn't talk much. I've told my parents about her. They're happy to see me being "social" and think that she's a lot like me. I don't see it. We have a lot of classes together, but that's it. I can't help but to compare her to my friends. She's not as funny as Patrick, as talkative as Mary Elizabeth, and I can't compare her to Sam, because it wouldn't be fair to Anne. I still do, though. I guess my parents think we're alike because we're smart (she's in most of my advanced classes) and we are what people would call "socially awkward." I am not "socially awkward" around my friends. I miss them so much. I am really trying to be above average in my advanced classes so that I can skip my junior year and hopefully see Sam and Patrick sooner. I know it may sound stupid because I can see them over break and what not, but it's not the same. I am busy with homework, projects, and other extracurricular activities. I can't wait until summer break; it seems so far away.

I didn't realise how much I depended on Anne to be my school friend until she was absent for three days. We would make small talk, but that's it. I guess you miss having someone around even if you barely know them. If you ask my family, well that's different. They mostly question me about how I am feeling and my non-exsistant social life. When Anne came back, she must have sensed I noticed her absence because really quietly she asked me, "Miss me?"

I knew it was a rhertical question, but I nodded anyways. That day was my first real conversation at lunch. I found out that she's into reading novels and wants to study science in college. When I told my parents that I carried out a conversation with someone that day, they were so happy. Am I really that "socially awkward?"

All that happened in September. It's October now, and I don't know if I can make it to Christmas Break. Anne moved to New York because her dad got a new job there. She writes me on occasion. You could say that we did grow close, but not as close as I am with Sam. There I go, comparing her to Sam again. I can't help it. No one will ever live up to Sam, in my mind.

Things started getting bad last week. I was in the hospital again, only I can remember what happened and what I did. I can't talk about it because it's like I am reliving it. I don't want to relive that. Sam wrote me a letter that told me to hang in there. I'm trying Sam; I really am for you. I am trying to stay strong, but that was two weeks ago. I don't know how much longer I can take it. I keep thinking that Sam, Patrick, and even Anne, who I barely knew, have moved on. I am alone... Sam why don't you visit, or write anymore? I am thinking too fast again. The room is spinning. Things are moving. I have to stop this letter now. Friend, i am sorry, but I don't think that I can take this anymore. Please tell Sam that I am sorry that I couldn't be the boyfriend that she deserved. Tell her that I've always loved her. It's not your fault that this is my last letter.

Love Always,

Charlie.